


Snape's Secret

by suitesamba



Series: Severus Sighs Anti-Valentine's Day Fest 2013 [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:32:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/pseuds/suitesamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b>  Snape sleeping in a bath. Sirius looking his fill. A cancelled spell, a threat, an offer, the bump and grind. That’s it in a nutshell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snape's Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Story written for the 2013 Anti-Valentine's Day fest in the Severus Sighs community to Prompt 2: Severus is embarrassed to bare it all because of a certain "condition" -- Maybe Severus is a hermaphrodite. Or has a third nipple or man boobs. Or a terrible skin condition. Or he's REALLY hung. #centaurSeverusFTW
> 
> **A/N:** Thanks to and for the beta. I’ve never written Sirius before so to all you Sirius/Snape shippers out there…my apologies.

“Sirius.” 

Albus stood in the doorway of the Black family library where Sirius was holed up with Remus, diagrams of the Ministry of Magic’s lower levels spread out on the worn tables before them. There was a picked-over box of Honeydukes Chocolate on the table, the only evidence that this day, unlike all the other days this cold winter, was Valentine’s Day.

Both men looked up at the Headmaster. He had that look, the one that told them that one of them, at least, was not going to like the next thing that came out of his mouth. 

“Severus has returned. He is greatly in need of a warm bath and a bed for the night.”

“And Hogwarts has both of those,” said Sirius.

“Is Severus injured?” asked Remus as Sirius went back to studying the documents.

“No. He is extremely cold, nearly frostbitten if Poppy is to be believed, and she’d like him to stay out of the dungeons tonight and not wear himself out further by traveling back to Hogwarts. Molly is warming him up with some soup now.”

Sirius frowned, but shrugged, affecting disinterest. He might have to give Severus a room, but he didn’t have to care about him. “Give him the room next to the bath on the second floor. Kreacher made it up after the kids were here for Christmas.”

“Thank you, Sirius. I am sure Severus will appreciate the hospitality, as do I.”

He closed the door softly behind him and Sirius sighed.

“Just what I need. The greasy git dirtying the sheets tonight. He’ll probably leave a grease ring around the tub, too.”

Remus shook his head. “That’s ridiculous, Sirius. And even if he did, you won’t be scrubbing the tub and washing the sheets yourself.”

Sirius grinned. “Nah. You’re right. What’s it to me, anyway? Besides, I wouldn’t want to trade jobs with him. Let him keep at it, and if all it costs me is some dirty sheets and a ring around the tub, I’ll call it even.”

“You should let this thing with Severus go, Sirius. We have more important things…”

“Hey—maybe I can finally get a look at what he’s hiding under those robes.”

Remus shook his head again while Sirius laughed. It was a harsh laugh, the laugh he’d brought back from Azkaban. It was well known among the Order that Severus Snape had a modesty streak a mile and a half wide. He didn’t bare it for anyone, nor for any reason. Even when it came to stripping off a shirt – changing from his regular robes to his Death Eater robes when he was called –he removed himself to a private room. And on those occasions when Poppy had to examine him, like when he’d dislocated his shoulder last month, everyone was shooed out of the room.

“He probably sleeps in his waistcoat,” said Sirius.

Remus took a piece of chocolate and bit into it without replying.

~*~

Snape was surly and uncommunicative, barely having nodded his head when Sirius offered to take him up to his room and have Kreacher fetch warm towels for his bath. Albus headed off any potential conflict by insisting on accompanying them both upstairs. Remus had Flooed out for the night and the Headmaster had gone back to Hogwarts as soon as Sirius handed off the towels and Snape disappeared inside the bathroom.

An hour and a half ago.

Now Sirius stood outside the bathroom door. He’d rapped sharply on it ten minutes earlier, but Snape hadn’t called out nor had he come out. Sirius wondered now if the ugly git had fallen asleep in there, possibly slipped under the water and drowned. Well, he could hope, anyway.

He cast a sound amplification charm then pressed his ear against the wood.

“ZZZZ-Zzzz-hngGggh-Pphww- zZZzzzZZ.”

Sirius grinned. Snape _was_ asleep. Asleep in the tub, apparently. And _naked_ in the tub. 

He reached down and tried the doorknob. Locked, of course. 

And probably warded. Definitely warded, if he knew Snape. 

Fortunately, they were in the Black house, and he was the head of the Black family now.

A snap of his fingers and Kreacher stood beside him. 

“Open the door, Kreacher,” directed Sirius. He tried to sound pleasant, no matter his true feelings for the ancient, crusty, forever-loyal-to-his-thankfully-deceased-mother house elf.

Kreacher grumbled, looked up at Sirius suspiciously, and touched the doorknob with his long index finger. The doorknob glowed briefly, then Kreacher walked away, shoulders bent forward as he mumbled under his breath.

Sirius waited for him to disappear then quietly pushed open the door.

The bathroom was large and drafty. The bathtub was over-sized and old-fashioned, standing on clawed feet against the tiled wall. 

“ZZZZ-Zzzz-Phhhh- zzzzzz.”

Snape was certainly sleeping. His head was resting on a fluffy white towel, folded to form a pillow. Only his head was visible from Sirius’ vantage point, though steam was still rising from the water. Ahhh. Heating charm.

Sirius padded slowly across the floor, eyes focused on Snape’s face. He was deeply asleep, head tilted slightly to the side, mouth slightly agape. When Sirius was close enough, he glanced quickly down into the tub. Snape was totally submerged from the neck down but completely covered by bubbles. Sirius frowned. Bubbles couldn’t possibly last in the tub this long.

No matter. The bubbles could only be there still due to a charm so all he had to do was cancel it to at least get a look at the front of Snape’s scrawny body. Not that he wanted to see naked Snape, but he’d probably never have another chance to find out what Snape was hiding. For all he knew, he had some sort of weird vestigial third nipple.

“ _Finite_ ,” he whispered, passing his wand over the bubbles.

The water cleared immediately. Snape was stretched out, utterly relaxed in sleep. He had a lithe, lean body, a smattering of dark hair on his chest and a variety of ugly scars—nothing surprising there. 

Oh. Now that was surprising. A tattoo, and not just the Dark Mark. No, Snape had a regular old Muggle tattoo on his chest, between his nipple and his left shoulder. Severus leaned in. The tattoo was sprouting hair.

Was this what Snape was hiding from everyone? A tattoo of a wolf? Wait. Could Snape have a thing for Remus? 

Sirius frowned. No. Impossible. Not Snape. He hated the wolf in Remus. He was prejudiced, just like the rest of the bloody Slytherins.

Sirius’ eyes traveled lower.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Maybe it wasn’t just that amateurish wolf tattoo Snape was trying to hide.

Though why would anyone… _anyone_ …try to hide something like _that_?

Who would have imagined that Snape – Snape of all people in the world – the greasy, gritty, acerbic, big-nosed Slytherin—was packing _that_ between his legs?

Snape’s prick was gorgeous and long and absolutely edible. It floated upward, plump and pink and smooth and uncut. Lovely bollocks to match. What the hell would that thing do when Snape was aroused?

Snape might be embarrassed about that wolf tatt, but he had nothing to be ashamed of below the belt.

Sirius couldn’t pull his eyes away. No. This was wrong. This was _Snape._ He hated Snape. Hated everything about Snape. _Everything._ No exceptions. 

Except…this. He couldn’t hate it. He had to grasp his hands together behind his back to keep from reaching down to touch it. It was just that…perfect.

Sirius was so busy staring that he didn’t notice that the snoring had stopped.

“You will never speak of this.”

Sirius jumped backward, hitting his head on a knick-knack shelf. Decorative cologne bottles shattered on the floor. 

“ _Reparo_.” Snape said casually, pointing the tip of his wand toward Sirius’ feet. The bottles flew back together and righted themselves on the shelf. “ _Scourgify_.” The spilled cologne disappeared, though the cloying smell lingered.

“I thought you’d drowned,” Sirius hissed, backing toward the door. “You’ve been in here nearly two hours.”

“And I’d be in here all night if someone hadn’t cancelled the warming charm on my bathwater.”

Fuck. Caught.

“Well pardon me for checking to see if you were alive, Snivellus.”

He turned and reached for the door knob, his back to Snape. Hearing Snape’s voice helped – it reminded him of who exactly he was dealing with.

“You will not mention what you saw. To anyone.” Snape nearly spat out the words, his voice hoarse.

Sirius whirled around, smiling maliciously. “Mention _what_? You don’t have anything any other bloke hasn’t got, Snape.”

Merlin. That was one of the biggest lies he’d ever told.

Snape hissed. “What will it take to buy your silence? Name your price, Black.”

“You sound desperate, Snape. Don’t want me mentioning that little wolfie tattoo to Remus?”

He pressed his back to the door as the water rippled and Snape slowly stood.

“I’m not referring to _that_ deformity.” Snape’s laugh sounded forced.

Sirius stared. He swallowed. If he hadn’t already been bent, he would have changed teams on the spot. That prick, that cock, that gorgeous piece of meat that had looked so plump and delectable underwater was now hanging down between Snape’s legs, water dripping off the tip _…drip…drip…drip…_ framed by two of the most beautiful bollocks Sirius had ever seen. Flaccid, it was bigger than the cocks in Sirius’ fantasies, and he had a rather vivid imagination. It wasn’t right that such an ugly, bitter, sour man had such a masterpiece hanging between his legs. 

“Cat got your tongue, dog?” Snape spat. 

“Good one, Snape. It’s dangerous to use an _Engorgio_ on your privates. They taught us that back in second year.”

Sirius’ eyes dropped and fixed on Snape’s wand as he tapped it against his bare leg.

“ _Finite_ ,” Severus said in a low, clear voice. A threatening voice that nonetheless trembled slightly. His wand was now clearly pointed at his prick.

Nothing happened.

Sirius swallowed. He could not pull his gaze away from Snape’s groin. He wanted to touch that prick. He wanted to feel the weight of it in his hand. The texture of it in his mouth. The girth of it up his arse.

_No!_ It was attached to _Snape_.

“I’ll make you a proposition, Black. You keep your mouth shut about this,” – and Snape lifted that heavy prick with his wand and let it fall back – “and I’ll fuck you with it now and whenever else you can take it.” There was something off about the way he spoke, as if words such as those did not often fall from his mouth. Almost…almost as if he was bluffing.

“What makes you think I can’t take it every day?” It was false bravado, just as Snape’s promises were, but he inwardly shuddered at the thought of taking…that…on a daily basis.

Snape raised one eyebrow and smirked.

Sirius stared at Snape. His eyes traveled down again to the magnificent cock. He swallowed. Fuck. This was _Snape_. He couldn’t…he shouldn’t… He would never forgive himself if he did.

Or if he didn’t.

He’d never have this chance again.

“Well?” Snape sounded impatient. He was fidgeting with his wand. 

“Alright then.” 

Snape looked…surprised.

“Alright? You _want_ me to…to…you want _this_?” He gestured to his cock which was beginning to take an interest in the proceedings.

Sirius took a step closer to Snape, then another. One more and he was on his knees, the proper position, the _only_ position to pay homage to such a supreme being. His hands wrapped around Snape, gripped his bony buttocks. Then his mouth was on Snape’s lovely cock, laving it with his tongue, swallowing it while it continued to grow. It pressed against the back of his throat as Snape groaned.

The fucking monster was _still_ growing.

Sirius choked. Snape pressed in. His mouth…his mouth couldn’t handle the girth. He backed away, gasping, until only the tip was on his tongue. He wrapped one hand around the shaft. Merlin’s sweet spot, even his bloody _hand_ wouldn’t fit around it! Snape wasn’t just well-endowed. He was hung like a bloody hippogriff.

“Changing your…mind?” Snape panted, hands in Sirius’ hair.

Sirius pulled away. Snape’s cock bobbed up and slapped him in the stomach. Sirius kicked off his shoes and started unbuckling his belt.

And then Snape was on him. Finally accepting that Sirius was actually going to let him fuck him, put that monster _in_ him, he seemed to lose all pretense of patience and control.

Five minutes later, Sirius was naked and draped over the side of the bathtub. Now it was Snape who was on his knees, behind him, hands slippery with conjured lube, pressing shaky fingers in him, long, dexterous fingers. Even three together were not wide enough, big enough. Not nearly enough. Sirius bucked against the cool porcelain, cock pressed between his sweaty belly and the damp tub, face just above the water, hands grasping the soap dish, struggling for a firm hold.

Panting. Groaning. Resolutely not asking for it. Not begging. Vocal but non-verbal. Back to Snape. Arse to Snape. Biting his lip to keep in the pleas, the entreaties, the curses, the moans, the cries of pain as the monstrous cockhead breached him, pressed in half an inch, stretching, then pulled out, pushed in another inch, another. Pulled out. Snape panting. Strained. “It’s too much. You can’t take it.” He sounded as if Sirius was a failure.

Sirius snarled a cry. He thrust backward, arse pushing against Snape’s groin. 

Snape let out a strangled groan. His blunt cockhead pressed back into Sirius. Breaking him. Breaking him. Breaking him.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_

Sirius wanted _more_.

Snape gave it to him. He was unhinged, finally, with no reservations. Fully seated at last, he took only a moment to rest, then jerked back and out and pressed in again. Sirius’ was nearly inhaling the bathwater now, nose an inch above the surface, struggling to stay above it. His arse was burning, stretched beyond possibility, that huge, glorious, gift of a cock assaulting his prostate. This was no mere slide, or touch, or tingle. The generous cock massaged it, attacked it, bullied it until his brain was garbled and every move of that body behind him, that cock within him, was a torturous attack. His skin was aflame, his whole body tense and drawn and waiting and wanting and just…just…just…

Snape came first.

He slammed in and tensed, then fell on Sirius and bit his shoulder, one hand in the tub, the other around his chest as he twinged and pulsed and onmyfuckinggod ran his hand along Sirius’ chest, finding the pebbled nipple, giving it one precise _pinch_.

Sirius exploded, cock untouched except for the press of the cool porcelain, sliding bonelessly down until his head was underwater and he couldn’t…couldn’t breathe…gasping as the powerful orgasm shook him and that monster cock was at home inside him and he wanted it there, _goddamn it he wanted it there_.

Then Snape was pulling him out of the water by his hair and he was gasping as they tumbled onto the tiled floor and the cock, that cock, slid out of him. He curled onto himself as Snape slid across the wet floor, breathing hard, trying to stand.

“Your secret…” Sirius’ voice was hoarse. 

“What?” Snape had pulled himself up and was leaning against the vanity. Even now, with endorphins beginning to fade and the ache starting to pulsate from his arse outward, Sirius wanted to crawl over to Severus and kiss the tip of the beast.

“It’s safe,” Sirius said, gasping slightly. “Your secret is safe, Snape.”

Snape stared at him. One side of his mouth quirked up in a half-smirk. He jerked his head in a nod.

“Every day is fucking Valentine’s Day with me, Black.”

He wrapped a towel around his middle, grabbed his wand and stumbled out the door, leaving his childhood nemesis naked and spent on the cold tile floor of the upstairs bathroom in the ancestral House of Black. 

“Better than candy and roses,” Sirius muttered as he pushed himself up on his knees. Then he grinned a shit-eating grin. _Fucking_ Valentine’s Day indeed.

_Fin_


End file.
